Transpire
by existence555
Summary: A strangely satisfying incident gives a new meaning to fraternizing with the enemy. These days, Sakura forgets that there are people that aren't meant to be healed. MadaSaku. Adult content!


**A/N: This is what happens when I read lots of M rated fics and a couple MadaSaku fics. An M rated MadaSaku fic! Um, adult content, don't say I didn't warn you. Review!**

Madara's dark eyes opened to find a pink haired woman leaning over him.

"Hn," he grunted.

She glanced at him, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that he was awake.

"Do you know who I am, kunoichi?" Madara asked.

"Do you know who I am, Uchiha Madara?" the medic retorted. "You shouldn't, seeing as you were already unconscious when I came along."

He felt a bandage being wrapped around his bloody arm. Her fingers were skillful and cool to the touch.

"Why are you healing me?" Madara pressed on.

She didn't reply so he was forced to look for hints that might clue him into her motives. There. A glint of a forehead protector. He strained slightly to see it better and noted that it was, in fact, a Konoha symbol. The symbol wasn't scratched out, though the metal was admittedly quite rusty.

"You know who I am," Madara said, hiding his wonder. "You know what I did to your village. Yet, you still heal me. You can't possibly be insane; your talent would be obvious to a fly."

She remained silent, infuriating him further. He could feel her healing chakra on his shoulder but he was more strongly aware of the pink locks flitting over his lips.

"Answer my question," he told her, a dangerous undertone creeping into his voice. "Now that I'm healed, I could do anything to you."

The woman rolled her eyes before responding.

"I have nothing else to lose," she said softly. "I don't _care_ what you do, Madara."

He raised an eyebrow. She was pushing his limits in a way that they had never been pushed. He noted that she didn't even bother to show respect for him, the shinobi that was likely to rule the world. No _sama,_ no _san, _not even a _kun_. She was quite enthralling, whoever she was.

"You are bold, for someone so frail," Madara observed. "Do you have a death wish?"

"I'm _not_ frail," she told him icily. "I'm stronger than you might believe."

His eyes reflected surprise though his self control was such that the rest of his face remained impassive.

"You're in good shape, for someone so old," she remarked.

A slight smirk came over his mouth as her eyes roamed over his bare chest and arms.

"It's not the first time a woman has been drawn to me," he agreed.

"Don't get the wrong idea," she laughed. "As a medic, I'm just fascinated by the way your body has coped all these years."

A rough hand cupped her cheek.

"You were done bandaging me a few minutes ago, kunoichi," Madara chuckled. "Why are you still in this position, inches away from the most dangerous man in the world?"

She ignored the warmth of his skin on hers, instead focusing on calming her rapidly beating heart.

"I've always liked a thrill," she shrugged.

He didn't bother trying to come up with a response. His smirk widened with her surprised eyes. Her lips were exquisitely soft; her tongue just as skilled as her healing fingers.

"Sakura," she told him, as they broke apart. "My name is Sakura."

"Ah, so a kiss was all it took to make you divulge your name," Madara said smoothly. "Perhaps a few other things will make you want to reveal your entire past, Sakura."

She was under him now, putting him in the perfect position to make her more vulnerable. He grabbed a fistful of pink hair as his other hand slipped under her skirt.

"Mada–" Sakura gasped. "Don't do thi–"

Her sentence was cut off as his grip on her hair tightened.

"What were you saying?" Madara asked, his lips at her ear.

Sakura bit her lip, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to escape.

"Don't do it?" he inquired.

It took all of her willpower to nod. His teeth pulled at the delicate skin of her ear; his tongue flicked out when she tried to pull away. He paused for a moment, a moment that made her feel safe but also helped along the heat gathering in her body.

"Thank y–" Sakura began.

Again, she was interrupted, as his finger strayed beyond lacy panties.

"Don't you dare," she warned him.

He met her gaze and smirked before brazenly daring to go inside. Her hands shot straight to his hair.

"Sakura," Madara whispered, sensually enunciating each syllable. "Why did you heal me?"

"I already told you," she choked out. "I have nothing to lose. Besides, Iruka-sensei always said it was good to help people."

His finger turned; she squirmed.

"Let me go," Sakura demanded breathily. "I do something nice like save your damned life and you–"

"This isn't nice?" Madara asked, raising his eyebrows. "It looks like you're having a nice time."

She was angry with herself when he removed his hand, angry that she hadn't quite meant her previous words. His fingers trailed up her side, under her top and to her bindings.

"Get your hands off of me," Sakura hissed, breathing heavily.

He didn't listen and he soon found that the bindings were tied in a loose knot. As he brushed over a particularly sensitive bit of skin, she closed her eyes, caught up in the moment. Though the knot would've been easy to undo quickly, Madara did it at an excruciatingly slow rate, watching her grit her teeth.

"Where did you want my hands to go?" he queried innocently.

His mouth crashed down onto hers and when he let her take a breath, the stifled moan finally came out.

"You bastard," Sakura said viciously. "You were the one responsible for their deaths. All the people I loved. Every single one of them."

Madara grinned, as if it was one of his greatest accomplishments.

"Dear, beautiful, Sakura, that begs the question again, why did you save me?" he retorted.

"I've seen enough death," she replied. "And I foolishly thought that maybe you would realize that there are peaceful ways to resolve matters."

His hand moved to cup her breast.

"I've been alive for a long time," Madara murmured. "And one pink haired woman isn't going to change anything."

Sakura smirked.

"The very fact that you haven't killed me is a contradiction of that statement," she pointed out.

"Just because my bloodlust isn't as strong as my lust for your skin doesn't mean that it's nonexistent," Madara warned her.

She couldn't respond as his fingertips roamed lightly over her chest. And then, with one quick movement, he was fully inside her and she screamed.

"Bastard," Sakura muttered, a few minutes later. "Unexpectedly doing things like that…"

"This was a very engaging incident," Madara told her. "But, I'm afraid I have things to do other than ravage pretty medics such as yourself. I would've _loved_ to play longer."

She glared at him as he got to his feet.

"Is that your goodbye?" Sakura called, when he started walking away.

Within a moment, Madara was next to her.

"We'll meet again, Sakura," he assured her. "Until then, a scar to remember me by, perhaps?"

A kunai ghosted over her cheek, leaving behind it a thin trail of blood.

"Let that heal naturally," Madara ordered. "Or I _will_ find out."

Then, with one last whisper of her name, he was gone.

Sakura brought her hand to her face without the usual chakra. It wouldn't hurt to let one cut heal on its own.


End file.
